


Small Heroes

by Liliththestormgoddess



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, Heavy Angst, Leukemia, Sick Children, Tony only pretends he doesn't care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 10:43:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1602038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liliththestormgoddess/pseuds/Liliththestormgoddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was her hero, but she didn’t realize that she was his. Because not every hero is big and saves the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Heroes

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers.
> 
> A/N:I wanted to explore a way for Clint to heal after the invasion, and my muse took this and ran with it. And then it became ‘How Everyone Moved into the Tower’.

They told him that he’d saved the world; that he was a hero.

He certainly didn’t feel like a hero. A hero doesn’t kill their comrades, even if under some super freaky mind spell. No, he’d never considered himself a hero, even if there was one person in the world who believed it with all her heart.

She was the main reason he’d fought back. He couldn’t wallow in depression. No, he had to be there for her.

Because in the eyes of his daughter, Clint Barton was a pillar of strength and fortitude. He could never be beaten.

So when the crazed demi-god was finally in SHIELD’s hands, Clint finally let out the breath he had been holding and turned to Natasha. She held his intense stare and the pair stepped aside from the bustle of people.

A flicker of a smile passed over her lips. It was the only outward sign she would show in public that she was pleased that he was back and that they were both relatively safe.

“Nat,” he croaked, an edge of panic to his voice, “Is Memorial -?” He dreaded uttering the rest.

She nodded, her eyes softening. “The hospital took a little bit of damage, but the building is fine for the most part. I called about a half hour ago. Eva’s fine.”

He swallowed, but his panic would not be settled. “I need to see her.”

“We’ve got a car waiting for us out front,” she declared, and the two assassins slipped away, telling Stark in passing that they would meet him at the shawarma joint.

The SHIELD car had a set of sirens but it made no difference in the devastated city. Clint gripped the wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. After the fifth intersection that he was unable to cross due to debris, he let out a string of colourful curse words and pounded the dash. Natasha laid a light hand on his shoulder and it was the only thing allowing him to keep his sanity.

Clint’s heart dropped even further into his stomach when they finally made it to the hospital. There were scorch marks around the outside and part of the back had crumbled. An upturned car sat in front of the main doors. Clint parked the car as close as he could and jumped out, Natasha following behind him.

Once inside, the pair saw even more devastation.

The ER was jam-packed with moaning and crying people and the nauseating smell of blood and burning flesh reached their noses. Harried nurses and doctors ran jagged patterns around the large area, trying to keep up with demand and failing.

Clint and Natasha slipped through the area and headed towards the stairs. The elevators were most likely out but Clint didn’t think he could wait for one anyways. They jogged up the three flights and walked into the paediatric ward.

It was a touch more calm up here. Nurses and doctors still rushed past, but there was not as much damage to the building here. The assassins could hear distant crying as they walked the familiar halls. The lights overhead flickered but stayed on. One doctor ran past them sporting a minor head wound but determined to put the more unfortunate first.

Clint approached the familiar room and slipped inside, nearly wanting to cry with relief as he saw his daughter sleeping peacefully, unharmed.

It was the middle of the day, and an extremely eventful one at that, but Eva’s days mostly consisted of sleeping. If Barton wasn’t so stressed he might have laughed at that. But instead, he collapsed into the chair next to her bed and picked up her small hand like it was his lifeline.

Natasha stood beside him and traced a finger down Eva’s pale, gaunt face. With her other hand she sought out Clint’s and laced her fingers in his. Together, they looked down at their daughter. She was quite small for her tender age of six, but she appeared even smaller when she was bundled underneath the blankets. She was dressed in her favourite pink flannel pyjamas, which matched her pink knit hat. Had she not already lost all of her hair, she would have had a long dark blond mane.

The only sound in the room for several long moments was the steady beeping and ticking of the machines, and Eva’s deep breathing. Then, her eyes fluttered open.

Her large green eyes spotted her father’s face first. A large smile broke out on her face, revealing a few missing teeth. “Daddy!” she cried, and then turned to Natasha. “Mommy!”

Clint grinned, fighting back tears. His daughter was perhaps the only living person who could make the master assassin cry. “Hiya, sweetheart.”

Natasha leaned over and kissed the girl on the forehead. “How do you feel, darling?”

“Good,” she exclaimed, hoisting her teddy bear back into her arms where it had fallen slightly out of reach as she slept. Her eyes widened as she turned back to her mother. “The building shook today, mommy! Nurse Minny said that aliens were attacking, but that superheroes saved us!”

Natasha frowned. “Were you frightened?”

The girl emphatically shook her head. “No, mommy, I said that superheroes saved us! Right, daddy?”

“That’s right,” he agreed. “And you know what?” he asked, leaning in closer and dropping his voice as if delivering a secret. Eva grew serious and leaned towards him. “Your mommy and daddy helped the superheroes.”

Eva gasped and clasped both hands over her mouth. “You did?” she shrieked. “Like Captain America? Did you meet Captain America?” she asked excitedly.

Clint chuckled. Phil had certainly influenced her obsession with Captain America. “Yes, we did.”

Eva let out another squeal of delight. She hugged her bear closer to her chest. “Can I meet him? I want to meet him, daddy!”

“You want to meet Captain America,” Clint murmured, clearly amused. Eva nodded. “Well, I’ll see what I can do,” he told her. She smiled another toothless smile. The little doll was wrapped right around her father’s finger.

Natasha sat down on the edge of her bed and pulled the blankets back up around Eva’s shoulders. The girl let out a small yawn. Natasha smiled. “Now, you had your medicine again today, so you need to get lots of sleep.”

Eva weakly shook her head, but her eyes were already fluttering closed. “When can I come home?” she asked softly.

Natasha and Clint exchanged hurt glances. Clint leaned over and pressed his lips to Eva’s forehead. “Soon, baby, soon. I promise.”

Eva nodded and quickly fell back to sleep. Natasha kissed her once more, then quickly stalked from the room, spinning around to throw herself into Clint’s arms as soon as they were in the hallway. The two battered assassins gripped each other tightly, shaking, but no tears were shed. They had none left.

* * *

 

The couple drove back towards the restaurant in depressed silence and at a much slower speed. When Clint parked it, he and his wife traded one last glance before their expressions became neutral and composed once more. When they exited the car, they were SHIELD agents once more and not grieving parents.

Clint wrenched open the protesting door and stepped over the debris littering the floor. The Avengers sat around the only tables still intact, while the owners moved around, sweeping and trying to get everything back in order.

“Ah, there are our assassins!” Tony called from his seat. “What took ya?”

Natasha regarded him coldly. “We had duties to attend to.” She dropped into one of the two remaining chairs, while Clint slowly eased himself down. He hadn’t realized until now just how sore he was from everything that had happened. Crashing through a window definitely did not help. Somewhere along the way he must have busted his hip, because it screamed at him from his position. He stretched out his leg and placed it on Natasha’s chair. It eased his discomfort somewhat.

Banner spoke up from the seat next to him. “We, uh, ordered without you. Sorry. We were kind of hungry,” he said sheepishly.

“No worries, doc,” Barton murmured.

The kindly doctor smiled at him. “We haven’t really been formally introduced,” he said, unwittingly giving Clint a painful reminder of how he’d spent his last few days. “Bruce Banner.” He held out his hand.

Clint shook it firmly. “Clint Barton.”

“I am Thor, son of Odin,” Thor boomed from across the table, leaning across to grasp Clint’s forearm tightly.

Clint nodded, surprise etched on his face.

Steve lifted his face from his fist and offered it to the archer. “Steve Rogers.”

“Cap,” Clint acknowledged.

Stark offered a nod from across the table, before waving down the waitress to grab the agents’ orders.

After everyone had gotten their food, conversation around the table died. Rogers was nearly falling asleep and everyone else was too tired to bother talking. So when a loud ringing suddenly broke the silence, everyone was startled.

Clint dropped his food back in its basket, frowning as he realized it was his private cell phone. He’d forgotten that he’d had it on him. He dug it out of his back pocket. “Hello?”

“Mr. Barton?” the voice on the other end asked. He could hear a lot of commotion in the background.

“Yes?”

“This is Nancy, from Memorial Cancer Centre, regarding your daughter, Eva Barton?”

Clint’s heart skipped a beat. Natasha caught the look in his eyes as he stood from the table, ignoring his body’s protests. “Is everything alright?” he asked, taking a few steps from the table, Natasha following him. His mind could only conjure up the worst.

The woman on the other end sighed. “We’re a little shaken over here, Mr. Barton, regarding today’s…activities, but your daughter is safe. We were only just able to get to the supply room. Unfortunately, the damage was heavier in there.” The receptionist paused. “All of our treatments were destroyed, along with the equipment. I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to put your daughter’s treatment on hold for now, until we can get the new equipment and drugs. It might take some time…I’ve already called the manufacturer but they were hit hard too…” her voice trailed off despairingly.

Clint closed his eyes, his grip on the phone tightening. “Okay…” he whispered, then spoke louder, “Okay, I understand. Thank you.” He hung up and stared at Natasha, feeling like the world had just pulled the rug from beneath his feet again.

His wife’s quiet whispers brought him back to earth. _“Was it Eva?”_ she asked in Russian, mindful of the stares from the rest of the Avengers.

He took a deep breath to compose himself. _“They’re putting her treatment on hold,”_ he replied. _“The medicine and equipment were ruined from the attack.”_

The only sign that the news hit her hard was the brief flicker of desperation in her eyes, but then it was gone. She said strongly, _“You didn’t do this.”_

Clint’s stomach clenched. _“But I did,”_ he replied, and walked out of the restaurant.

Natasha watched him for a moment before turning back to the rest of the Avengers. They all frowned at her.

“Is everything all right?” Steve asked, concern written all over his face.

“Just fine,” she answered tonelessly and followed her partner out.

* * *

After Loki had been taken back to Asgard for trial, Fury had told the Avengers to take some time off. Well, actually, his exact words were, “Scram. Before the Council can veto my decision.” He’d looked pointedly at his two agents in particular. They didn’t need to be told twice.

From the park they’d gone straight to the hospital. They spent most of their time with Eva and always left at the end of the day with heavy hearts. But Eva always had a smile on her face and Clint marvelled at the fact that she could still smile. He wondered if it was just the innocence of youth or blissful ignorance…except Eva was anything but ignorant. She knew what was happening to her body – or as much as a six year old could understand. Barton wondered if perhaps that was the reason she smiled all the time. That she could look past it all and find something good in her life.

Clint knew he ought to take a leaf out of her book.

The only time she stopped smiling was when she asked about Captain America, and Clint would tell her that Captain America was busy at the moment. She would nod but her eyes would stay downcast. It nearly broke his heart. The one thing that he could truly do for her…

So, with his resolve firmly in place, he headed back to SHIELD to find Rogers.

He was apprehensive about entering headquarters, as the last time he’d been there he had not been well received. Although, as luck would have it, Rogers was just exiting the building.

Clint jogged over to reach him before he took off on his motorcycle. “Rogers!” he called.

Steve looked over his shoulder and stopped walking when he recognized Clint. He nodded to the man. “Agent Barton. How have you been?” He hadn’t seen the man since the Avengers had scattered. Looking at the agent now, though, he saw dark circles under his eyes and his haggard clothes. He realized it was a pretty dumb question. The man had had his mind taken over.

“Fine,” Barton shrugged. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, shoving his hands in his pocket. “Listen, Cap, I’ve got a huge favour to ask.”

Steve frowned. “Sure, anything. What can I do?”

Barton blew out a breath. “My daughter…she’s in the hospital. She has leukemia. And…god, you’re her idol. Meeting you would thrill her. She’s been asking about you for the last month.”

Rogers stared at the smaller man, frozen in shock. He didn’t know what was more surprising; that Barton had a daughter, or that she was sick, or that _he_ was her idol. “Of – of course,” he managed to utter. “I’d love to.”

Barton smiled. “That’s great. Um…when are you free?”

“Well, I don’t have anything now. Is that okay?” If there was one thing that really tugged on the Captain’s heartstrings, it was sick children, for a myriad of reasons. And if the one thing that he could do for them was to just show up and talk to them, well he’d do it for as long as he’d live if he could.

“Yeah, yeah,” Barton nodded. “Do you know the way to the hospital?” Steve nodded. “Okay. I’ll meet you out front.”

Barton was already at the front entrance when Steve pulled up. He motioned him to follow and they stepped inside.

Hospitals were not unfamiliar to Steve, and even in the seventy years that he’d been frozen, not much had changed. There were still sick people. There were still doctors and nurses. There was still chaos and death. Even the smell was the same. He continued to follow Barton up the stairs and when they reached the paediatric ward that was when it became all-too familiar to him.

He’d always been sick as a child, and as he looked around at the small, sickly children playing with toys or watching TV or moving around in their wheelchairs, he saw himself in every one of them. He knew what it was like to look out the window and wish that that was where you could be. His friends had always complained about having to go to school. All Steve ever wished for was to be able to go to school.

A passing nurse smiled at them. “Hello, Mr. Barton,” she greeted.

“Hey, Georgina,” Barton replied. He slowed down at a door at the end of the hall, where voices floated out.

“No, mommy, I can do it myself!” An indignant little voice cried.

There was a sigh of exasperation. “All right, Ангел мой,” another voice murmured. Steve knew that voice…

Clint poked his head in the door, watching as Eva struggled to get her sweater over her head. “Are you giving your mother grief?” he asked lightly.

Eva froze, the sweater still halfway over her head, and turned to the door. “Daddy?” she called excitedly through the sweater, and her struggles to get it on increased.

He chuckled and helped her pull it down properly. She grinned and threw her arms around him. He returned the hug and pulled back. “Guess who I brought with me?” he whispered conspiratorially.

Eva looked over her shoulder and saw Steve standing in the doorway. He smiled at her. She gave a great gasp and squealed, “Captain America!”

He walked in, somewhat stunned to see Natasha there, but sat on the chair that Clint had just vacated. “Hi there, Eva.”

Natasha and Clint stood to the side and watched as Eva became increasingly animated, completely talking Steve’s ear off. He was incredible with her, Natasha decided. He was gentle and funny, and listened attentively to every word she said.

But as the evening approached, Eva’s eyes grew heavy. Natasha stepped forward. “Alright darling, I think someone needs to get some sleep.” She winked at Steve. “You tired the poor man out.”

Eva pouted. “I’m not tired.” But she couldn’t stop the yawn. She reached for Steve’s hand. “And I don’t want Cap to go.”

Steve’s heart practically melted. He held her hand between his and smiled down at her. “Don’t worry, Eva, I’ll come back.”

Her eyes lit up. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

Steve and Clint stepped out of the room as Natasha readied their daughter for bed. Clint smiled as he turned to Steve. “Thanks again, man. It means so much to her.”

Rogers shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s not a problem. I really enjoyed it. She’s a great kid.” He smiled at the small form tucked in the bed.

Natasha exited the room. “Thanks, Cap. We really appreciate it.”

“It’s the least I can do. And I really did mean it. I’d love to come back.”

Clint and Natasha exchanged glances. “We know she would love that,” Natasha said.

As the trio made their way out, Steve asked tentatively, “How long?”

“She was diagnosed about two years ago. She’s been in and out for chemo. It’s come back twice already.”

“It must be hard on you.”

The couple didn’t even need to answer.

They paused for a moment on the sidewalk, and Steve jumped when a loud sound pierced the air. He realized it was that new-fangled thing Tony had handed him. He pulled the offending item out of his pocket and frowned at it. “It keeps doing that!” he exclaimed.

Natasha raised an eyebrow and took the cell phone from him. She tapped it a few times. “It’s Stark,” she said. “He’s been texting you.”

“Tex-ting?” Steve repeated, completely baffled.

Natasha held back her laughter. “He’s sending you messages. See?” she handed the phone back to him and he squinted at it. He could read words across a screen.

“Oh,” he said.

Clint’s lips twitched. “Want me to text him back for you?”

Steve still stared at the phone in his hands. “No, thanks. I’ll just go over and see what he wants.”

Clint clapped him on the shoulder. “Take care. And thanks, again.”

* * *

The words were beginning to blur together.

“Damn it!” Clint growled, cradling his head in his hands and crumpling the letter slightly as he did so.

He heard tiny footsteps in the doorway. “Daddy?” a small voice asked.

Clint whipped around to see his daughter standing there, dressed in a floor length pink nightgown, clutching her bear and a frown on her face. “What’s the matter?”

He gestured for her to come closer and he pulled her small, warm body into his lap. Holding his precious gift made almost everything better.

“Well, kiddo, see…” he showed her the letter. “It’s a letter from Uncle Phil.”

Eva peered at the writing. “What does it say? Where is Uncle Phil?”

Clint swallowed the lump in his throat. “Uncle Phil…had to go away. For a long time.”

Eva pondered that for a quick moment. “Oh. Okay. Will you tuck me in?”

“Absolutely,” Clint answered, getting to his feet and carrying Eva back to bed, the words of the letter echoing in his head. _Don’t ever forget what you have, Clint…never take it for granted. Each moment is precious._

* * *

Tony Stark looked up as Rogers entered his lab. “Where’ve you been?” he asked accusingly, setting aside the torch he held. “I called you, like, eight times.”

Rogers frowned at him. “I was busy. And I don’t know how to use that thing anyways.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “That’s why I _called_ you.” When Steve continued to scowl, Stark waved his hand. “Forget it. Here, try this out.” He tossed Steve what looked like a shapeless shirt.

Steve raised a sceptical brow. “What is this?”

“I’m modifying the uniform. This is just Stage One. Just try it.”

After several tests, Steve made for the exit, but stopped when Stark called him back.

“I meant it…if you wanna crash here,” Stark gestured wildly around. “Go for it. No rent. I’ve got plenty of suites.”

Steve regarded him for a moment. “Thank you,” he said softly, recognizing it as a subtle gesture of friendship. “I’ll think on it.”

* * *

Stark was nosy. That was unsurprising. Stark was also impatient. Again, unsurprising. So, it didn’t take long before Stark figured out just where Captain America was spending all of his free time when he wasn’t answering Tony’s calls. He visited the hospital a few times – not surprising. The man was a bleeding heart. But the small apartment address on the outskirts of town was a little more interesting. Very interesting, because with just a little more digging, it turned out to be Agent Barton’s personal address. Another man who was studiously ignoring his calls.

So, he paid the agent a visit.

Barton opened the door, looking confused to see Tony standing there. “Why are you here?” he asked by way of greeting.

Tony cocked an eyebrow. “You haven’t been answering any of my calls.”

Clint narrowed his eyes. “No, we’ve been a little busy.”

Before Tony could point out Clint’s use of the word ‘we’, a small voice cried inside, “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”

Clint dashed back inside. Tony disregarded manners and followed him in.

“What? What?” Clint asked the little girl sitting in the kitchen. She pointed wide-eyed at the pot boiling over on the stove. “Shoot!” he cried and dashed forwards.

Stark and the little girl eyed each other over with great interest.

“Daddy, who’s that?” the girl asked.

Clint glanced up from the stove to see that Tony had followed him in. “Well, Eva,” he said, turning off the element, “that is Iron Man.”

Stark practically beamed.

Eva frowned. “Noooo,” she said. “That’s not Iron Man.”

Stark’s grin faded. “I assure you, I am.”

Eva shook her head. “Nuh-uh, Iron Man has a suit.”

Tony opened his mouth, probably to continue the argument with the child, but Clint put an end to it. “He just doesn’t have it with him, honey.”

Eva considered her father. “Oh. Okay.” Then she went back to her drawing.

Clint laughed at Tony’s expression. “Sorry man, Cap’s her favourite.”

But Tony hadn’t really been offended by the lack of excitement. He was still in shock seeing the assassin, who had nearly succeeded in taking down the helicarrier, in such a domestic scene and so comfortable around this child. He was even more shocked about the health status of the child; it was written clear across the girl that she was very sick. He had noticed the girl’s eyes, of course; bright green, and he would have made a comment about the two assassin’s relationship status if he hadn’t caught sight of the drawing the girl was doing.

The background seemed to be the park, with a swing set and a smiling sun and white puffy clouds. A little girl stood next to a jungle gym and Eva made careful, even strokes with the yellow crayon, drawing on a head of floor length hair.

The words died in Tony’s throat and he caught sight of Barton’s mournful look as he too, spied the drawing.

Tony cleared his throat. There was definitely no lump there. “Well, I, uh, just wanted to let you know, I have renovations for the tower underway. There are lots of extra rooms. Everyone is welcome, rent-free. Bruce is already living there. You and Romanoff are welcome, and even the little tyke.”

Eva seemed to understand he was referring to her. She looked up, a petulant expression on her face. “My name Eva!”

Clint didn’t respond for a minute. He set a bowl in front of his daughter. Eva wrinkled her nose and pushed the bowl away. “Not hungry, daddy.”

Clint pushed the bowl back. “I know, but its just soup. C’mon, you need to eat a little bit.”

Eva shot the soup a filthy look, but picked up the spoon and took a careful sip.

Running a hand through his hair, Barton turned back to Tony. He was about to protest when Tony cut him off. “I’ve got all top of the line medical equipment and access to a full spectrum of specialists. She wouldn’t have to leave the house.”

Barton paused. “I’ll have to talk to Natasha,” was all he said.

The next day, Memorial Cancer Centre received an anonymous donation to help with the repairs. It held one specification: to upgrade the paediatric ward.

* * *

It was a week before the Barton family showed up on Tony’s doorstep with no advanced warning. In their defence, Tony had said, “Just come right over.”

It wasn’t one of Eva’s better days. She kept coughing and refused to eat all day. She was too tired and weak to go from the car to the elevator, so Natasha carried her in.

JARVIS’ voice greeted them as they stepped into the waiting elevators. Clint raised an eyebrow at Natasha, who just smiled faintly at him. The elevator made its way up before either of them could press a button.

When it opened, a woman in a sharp pressed suit greeted them with a bright smile. “Agent Romanoff, Agent Barton. Welcome.” Clint put the bag he was holding on the ground to shake her hand. “I’m Pepper Potts. CEO of Stark Industries.”

“She’s also Tony’s keeper,” Natasha remarked.

Pepper chuckled. “Yes, I guess I am.” Her smile widened considerably at the bundle in Natasha’s arms. “Is this Eva?” she asked softly. Her eyes glistened and Clint hoped that she wouldn’t start crying. That was not what he needed at the moment.

Natasha nodded. “She’s had a rough day. I’d like to put her down for bed.”

Pepper straightened. “Of course. I’ll show you your suite.”

The suite was massive. If they so inclined, Natasha and Clint would never have to leave. It had a kitchen, dining room, living room, and two bathrooms and bedrooms. The décor was sparse, allowing the occupants to decorate it as they saw fit. It was easily five times larger than their modest apartment.

Natasha laid Eva down in the smaller bedroom that had already been decorated to suit a little girl. It was still minimally decorated, presumably so that Eva could decorate how she liked. Natasha kissed her on the forehead and slipped out, leaving the door ajar. She joined Pepper and Clint in the foyer as they discussed the general workings of the house.

* * *

The scratchy feeling of a dry throat woke Eva sometime in the night. She startled for a moment at the unfamiliar surroundings, but quickly remembered her mother telling her that they were moving. She stepped into her slippers that sat beside the bed, pulled on the housecoat draped across a chair, and tugged on her hat before wandering to the small crescent of light that leaked into her room.

She pulled at the door slightly, squinting into the bright, unfamiliar hallway. Looking both ways, she decided to head left and found her way into the kitchen. Gazing at the grandness of it all, she found a cup in one of the cupboards and poured herself some water. She took a few sips before putting it back on the counter and deciding she wanted to explore this new house.

Bruce was completely focused on his current experiment that he didn’t hear anyone approaching until he heard the sound of someone small cough. Confused, he looked up to see a small girl smiling in front of his lab bench.

“Hi,” she said, pivoting restlessly on the spot.

Bruce wondered for a moment if he really needed to catch up on his sleep. He blinked a few times but the girl remained. So, he wasn’t seeing things.

“Hi there,” he said softly. “How did you get in here?” JARVIS hadn’t alerted him of any intruders.

“I live here!” she exclaimed. “I Eva!”

Banner wondered if maybe he needed to pay more attention when Tony went on his long rambles. Had he mentioned children? Did he mention children moving in? He smiled down at the girl. “Well, hello there Miss Eva. My name is Bruce.” He took in her bedroom attire, and with a pang, the knit cap covering her presumably bare head. “Where are your parents?” Or better yet, who are your parents? He wanted to ask.

Eva shrugged. “Sleeping.” She peered up at his lab bench. “What’cha doing?”

“Well, I’m working on a very important project. Would you like to be my assistant?” She nodded. “It’s a very important job,” he warned.

“I can do it!” she insisted.

He showed her his colour-coded labelling system and she dutifully began placing blue stickers on the test tubes he’d given her. Each sticker was placed with great care.

Half an hour passed calmly, when the lab door opened again, but this time Bruce heard it. He glanced up to see Agent Barton hurrying in, a worried expression on his face. Eva looked up from her work. “Daddy!” she cried, “Look what I’m doing!”

Barton’s face smoothed into a smile and it was the first smile Bruce had seen on the man. “Eva, honey, you need to tell us before you wander off!” He turned to Bruce. “I hope she wasn’t bothering you, Doc.”

Bruce blinked. “No, ah, not at all. She’s been a real help, actually. She’s a real sweet girl.”

Barton turned back to Eva, a cheeky grin on his face. “Hear that? He thinks your sweet,” he teased.

She looked back up at him with innocent eyes. “But I am, daddy!”

He sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets and looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t know about that…”

Eva stuck her tongue at him and Clint responded in kind.

To Bruce, it seemed almost like a movie. Though he did not know the man well at all, this was certainly a side of the assassin he would never have expected. It just didn’t fit with the picture of the muscular, bow-wielding fighter he had in his head. Though Bruce knew he was one to talk…

He was brought back to reality when Eva let out a loud yawn. Clint frowned and scooped her up, where she immediately rested her head on his shoulder. He rubbed her back as he turned back to the scientist. “Thanks, Doc, for watching her.”

“It wasn’t a problem at all.” Bruce fiddled with his glasses. “Are you staying here now?”

Clint nodded. “Yeah, moved in this afternoon.” He paused, opened his mouth, and then closed it again. “Well, I’ll be going,” he said.

Banner nodded to him. “Good night.”

Steve Rogers moved in the next day.

* * *

Clint had stuck a picture on the fridge that Eva had drawn for them, and it had been placed on their new fridge when they’d moved. It was of the three of them, all holding hands, and each person labelled. A few weeks after they’d moved in Clint had noticed that the picture was missing.

He found Eva at their kitchen table with the picture, colouring with careful precision. He peered over her shoulder, frowning at the extra person she was drawing. “What do you have there, sweetheart?” he asked softly.

“Our family is growing, daddy,” she said, picking up a red crayon and colouring a big star on the new man’s shield. “So I need to fix this.”

* * *

It wasn’t an unusual occurrence to have the Avengers called out for duty. Since everyone except Thor (who was off dealing with Loki) resided in Stark Tower, it was relatively easy to notify them all at once.

Since the invasion, Clint had been suspended from active duty until he was cleared again for fieldwork. This meant Natasha was sent on field missions by herself or with other agents and Clint stayed back with Eva. This arrangement suited them both fine. Usually Eva had been in the hospital or Phil had been able to watch her. Now though, Phil was gone and Eva’s doctors came straight to the tower.

One day, however, they received a call for all Avengers to suit up.

Barton sat up straight in his chair when Fury notified them. “Sir,” he said. “I’m suspended from active duty.”

“Barton, I’m temporarily suspending the suspension. This situation requires everyone. Except, I’m afraid, Dr. Banner.” Fury turned his gaze on the doctor. “The location is somewhat delicate. We’d rather you sit this one out.”

Banner looked slightly relieved. “Fine by me.” He’d rather not give full access to the Hulk if he could help it. Things were less likely to go horrifically wrong.

“A jet will be at the tower in five.” Fury ended the call and everyone rushed to suit up.

Barton looked panicked. He turned to his wife. “What about Eva?”

Bruce spoke up. “I’ll look after her.” When Clint turned back to him, he smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she’s fine.”

Natasha laid a hand on Clint’s arm, who hadn’t moved, and nodded her silent thanks to Bruce before taking her husband out with the rest of the superheroes.

Eva was thrilled to spend time with Bruce, as it turned out, and the mission went off without a hitch. It was when the Avengers returned, and Clint and Natasha came peeling through the apartment, still dirty and bleeding from the fight, having skipped medical, and scooped their daughter in their arms did Bruce really understand. Only when he was holding his daughter did Clint’s shoulders lose their tension and the darkness left his eyes. He understood that everything that the spies did was done for their daughter. He never heard a single complaint. Every mission they went on and fought to return home, they fought to return to their daughter. They were still alive and sane because they wanted to be there for their daughter. Later, Clint would confide in Bruce that Eva was the only pure, innocent thing in his life and he planned on keeping it that way for as long as he could.

Eva quickly became everyone’s pure and innocent beacon of hope, and the family in the picture grew to include Bruce and Iron Man.

* * *

The Black Widow could never be described as maternal. Even Natasha Romanoff wouldn’t describe herself as motherly, unless that was who she needed to be.

Hell, Natasha never pictured herself where she was today, with family and friends and working for the good guys.

Life was funny that way; throwing what you least expected at you.

Bruce broached the subject one day as he ate breakfast with Natasha. They happened to be the only two awake at the moment, and Bruce enjoyed the calm atmosphere he only got when he was around Natasha. Things had changed since the first day they’d met.

One side of Natasha’s lip twitched upward as she looked down at her cup of tea. “We never really planned any of it,” she told Bruce quietly. “Clint and I…were involved for some time, but we only got married on a bet.” She smirked at his expression. “And Eva…we never planned for Eva.” She looked back down at her tea as a shadow crossed her face. “I was never supposed to be a mother…I never thought I could be. And not to a very sick child…but then, who is prepared for that?”

The two fell silent. Nothing more could be said.

* * *

Eva began insisting that Bruce come with her to her appointments.

“Daddy calls you Doc,” she pointed out, hands on her hips and looking so much like her mother that it scared him.

“I’m not a person doctor, Eva,” he tried to tell her, but relented at the end. “But I will come with you, if you want.”

After two failed bone marrow transplants, tensions were running high. Eva knew that something was wrong, but she just saw the appointments as the norm. They were always the same to her. Only now, she could stay in her room and she had new doctors. She was a little sad to see Dr. Paul go, but it was much better than being away from her parents for so long.

After the third transplant, things were starting to look up. Clint and Natasha dared to hope that this was the end. They didn’t know if Eva could take any more. They weren’t sure _they_ could take any more.

It came to the point where all that was needed was a blood sample analysis everyday to monitor her white blood cell count. It was an admittedly simple procedure and Eva asked if Bruce could just do it. He looked bewildered and hesitant, but the reassuring look in Clint and Natasha’s eyes drove him to agreement.

* * *

“You know what I wanna be when I grow up?” Eva asked Steve one day.

He smiled and leaned closer. “What’s that?”

“A superhero. Just like you.”

Steve blushed. He still wasn’t used to such plain adoration. “What about your parents?” he asked.

She cocked her head. “Are they superheroes?” She knew, in a sense, that they saved the world. Her parents always told her they fought the bad guys so that the good guys could live safely. But they weren’t _Iron Man_ and _Captain America_ , and those two were definitely superheroes.

Steve called to mind the image of Barton and Romanoff, who could be so deadly on the battlefield but come home and handle their daughter with such care. He thought of all the time and effort and strength they needed to take care of Eva, and how they gave it all willingly and without thought, and they even smiled through it all.

“Yes,” he replied strongly. “You’re parents are definitely superheroes.”

* * *

Eva grabbed hold of her mother’s hand and held tight. Bruce knelt in front of her, eyes glued to hers. “Ready?” he asked. She nodded and held her hand out to him. He took it and quickly pricked her ring finger. Eva winced and squeezed her mother’s hand tight. She knew what was coming and yet each time it always hurt.

Bruce picked up a capillary tube and used the open end to catch the blood coming from the open wound. When the tube was half-filled, he placed a band-aid on Eva’s finger and went to run the sample.

Natasha kissed the finger, as she did each time, and the small family waited on the results.

Eva turned to her father. “Daddy, Cap says that you and mommy are superheroes.”

Clint raised an eyebrow at Natasha, but smiled at his daughter. “Ah, well, yeah, I guess so.”

Eva grasped his hand. “You’re _my_ hero, daddy,” she said matter-of-factly.

Tears glittered in his eyes as Clint pulled his daughter into a hug. “No, darling. You’re _my_ hero.”


End file.
